novelraw Chapter 15: Abraxas's Reasonable Suspicion
Chapter 15: Abraxas's Reasonable Suspicion
Chapter Fifteen: Abraxas's Reasonable Suspicion
On Christmas Eve, Malfoy Manor was putting the finishing touches on its Christmas decorations.
When Draco entered the drawing room, he found his mother, Narcissa, standing in the center with her arms crossed, scrutinizing the angle of the silver Christmas tree, the position of the mistletoe wreath, and the dark green vines twinkling with silver lights, while her house-elves—dressed in Christmas-patterned pillowcases—were being directed about.
Those unfamiliar with Narcissa would likely perceive her as arrogant and aloof. She always wore a weary expression, seemingly uninterested in anything around her.
However, in private—at least in Draco's eyes—Narcissa was someone with a strong sense of ritual and great love for life.
How could you say someone dedicated to celebrating every holiday, big or small, with style and flair was bored with everything?
As for his father Lucius, he continued to unconditionally support his wife's hobbies, allowing Narcissa to cut down the best-growing silver fir trees on the estate every year and proudly display them in the drawing room.
"Are you sure you won't feel bad about it?" Draco had overheard his mother asking his father while they cut down trees this year. "Don't you always say you cherish every tree and blade of grass on the estate?"
"I love how enthusiastically you decorate the Manor," Lucius said, watching the house-elves chopping down trees in the snow.
He had his back to his son, so Draco couldn't see his father's expression. However, Draco could tell his voice was much gentler than usual. "Cissy, I'm always worried you're too bored at home. I know you don't really enjoy the social gatherings and Ministry business I deal with. I'm glad you have something you enjoy doing."
His father seemed to be encouraging his mother to cultivate more hobbies so she wouldn't feel lost or neglected while he was busy pursuing his career. Draco glanced at his parents holding hands, silently watching snow fall, and quietly retreated.
In his previous life, Draco had never paid special attention to the conversations and interactions between his parents.
He'd considered himself the center of the world.
He'd only focused on linear communication between himself and his mother, and between himself and his father.
His mother always subtly instilled certain ideas in him—gentle, rarely angry. His father, on the other hand, wasn't stingy about reasoning directly with his son, occasionally praising him, but more often using criticism to correct his various "bad habits."
However, upon rebirth, Draco—whose observational skills had been honed to an exceptionally sharp level during those two terrible years—discovered a subtle mutual care between his parents that he'd never noticed in his previous life.
For example, at this moment, although Lucius sat in his favorite armchair, seemingly concerned about his son's school life, saying "Draco, come here," his gaze remained fixed on Narcissa.
"I've heard Severus praise you several times regarding Potions class. You did well," he said, continuing to glance at Narcissa with the smug look of someone directing a house-elf.
"Professor Snape has always been exceptionally lenient with me," Draco replied, standing respectfully beside his father.
Draco knew that even if he showed the slightest bit of pride, his father would mercilessly criticize him.
It seemed only when Draco displayed extreme humility could he receive even the slightest word of affirmation from Lucius.
"I know his temperament. Unless he's extremely satisfied, even the closest person won't get a kind word from him," Lucius said calmly.
Draco nodded slightly.
At this moment, Narcissa was backing away, trying to view the Christmas tree from a distance. Lucius quietly waved his cane, moving aside the annoying boxes behind her.
"Also, what's your opinion of that famous Harry Potter? Is he worth befriending?" Lucius was in a good mood, taking a sip of wine and savoring it.
"At present, he seems worth befriending," Draco said slowly, carefully choosing words. "He's quite talented in some areas—after all, he has the distinction of being the Boy Who Lived... but obviously, growing up in the Muggle world, he knows nothing about magical society's rules and basic etiquette. In this respect, we can help him."
"Indeed, a wizard who can defeat the Dark Lord, even if temporarily down on his luck, is not to be underestimated. Besides, the Potter family is pure-blood nobility—though later excluded from the Sacred Twenty-Eight—they were once influential in the Wizengamot and involved in business, and their members are quite talented in Potions..." Lucius said thoughtfully. "Draco, observe him closely. If his magical talent exceeds even the Dark Lord's, a proper Malfoy should befriend everyone beneficial to us."
Draco nodded silently.
"Very good." Lucius stood with satisfaction, smiled slightly at Draco, and ended his concern for his son.
He eagerly approached Narcissa, who'd just finished decorating the Christmas tree, and tenderly massaged her shoulders as if she'd accomplished a tremendous, arduous task.
This is pure torture, Draco thought, standing by the fireplace, expression blank.
Lucius, his father, was a typical Slytherin: arrogant, conceited, and cunning.
His interpretation of things was mostly self-interest based, rarely incorporating humanity's brilliance. For example, in befriending Potter, he only focused on benefits brought by the name "Potter," rather than Potter's character.
The only glimmer of humanity in his father probably stemmed from his devotion to his mother and his limited concern for him, Draco thought wryly.
My father is no ordinary man. He managed the vast Malfoy family business, navigating and maneuvering among various interests to secure family benefits. On the surface, he maintained friendly relationships with Ministry of Magic officials who upheld the International Statute of Secrecy, but privately, he maintained a secret yet close connection with the Muggle world.
He also skillfully navigated between various factions. The Ministry, the Dark Lord, and various groups formed by pure-blood families... he had "friends" in each faction, just as he had "enemies" in each.
He lavished Galleons and made many friends. Simultaneously, he wouldn't hesitate to take frightening approaches to deal with those who tried infringing on Malfoy interests or dared disrespect the Malfoy name.
He might be irrational and overly radical at times, but undeniably, he was mostly adept at skillfully navigating between friendliness and hostility and emerging unscathed.
In his past life, although he'd entered Azkaban and made a mess of things, causing the Malfoy family to fall into despair, they were still alive after all. As long as they were alive, there was hope for a comeback—Lucius must have had his own survival rules.
In the later part of his past life, Draco could sense his father harbored some private regret. However, by then, the Malfoy family was already deeply entangled in their situation.
All wizards knew they were the Dark Lord's people through and through—the Dark Lord had even lived in Malfoy Manor for a long time, using the Malfoys as the Death Eaters' headquarters and stronghold.
The Ministry of Magic was controlled by the Dark Lord, Dumbledore—the only one who could possibly rival him—was dead, and the Savior Potter was on the run like a fugitive... Even if the Malfoy family wanted to surrender to the Order, they'd have no one to surrender to.
At the same time, the Malfoys would never rise in rebellion and directly oppose anyone. That wasn't their style.
In this situation, how could they clear their names and recover? With death's threat hanging over their heads, they had no choice but to appear as staunch Dark Lord supporters, even to appear incorrigible and loyal, as if still favored by him.
Otherwise, those covetous Death Eaters and Aurors—those who'd long coveted the Malfoy family's wealth and resources—would swarm like jackals and devour the Malfoys without hesitation.
I must never be so passive again in this life. From the very beginning, I must never entertain the thought of "joining forces with the Dark Lord."
This would ultimately bring the Malfoy family to ruin. Although Draco admitted that when the Dark Lord made his grand entrance and was successfully resurrected, joining his side seemed the smoothest path.
The problem was that Lucius had always been stubborn. The Dark Lord's pure-blood ideology suited him best, and standing on the Dark Lord's side seemed most profitable for the Malfoy family—Lucius had once doubled the family's wizarding world profits by exploiting the situation.
How could he make his father realize that siding with the Dark Lord was no longer in the Malfoy family's interest, but rather an act of self-destruction?
Lucius was such an arrogant Malfoy that he was unwilling to listen to others' opinions—at least not to an eleven-year-old child's.
Even his grandfather Abraxas's words weren't always heeded. He appeared obsequious to his grandfather on the surface, but privately he'd ignore them, and whatever he did, his grandfather's words were halved in his opinion.
He might heed some of his mother's suggestions.
Since Father trusts Mother and is willing to listen to her, perhaps we should place our bets on Mother? Draco watched Lucius and Narcissa talking intimately, pondering this.
If Mother were willing to use some influence, the rudder of the Malfoy family's behemoth might quietly change course.
However, changing her mind and getting her help was no easy task. Narcissa and Lucius were kindred spirits on pure-blood ideals.
The only thing Draco could leverage was his mother's affection for him. But this affection probably wasn't enough to shake the pure-blood beliefs his mother held dear.
Narcissa was no mindless mother. Pampering, even spoiling, didn't mean she listened to her son in everything. It would be a grave mistake to think Narcissa only indulged her son or was content with Christmas decorations.
She was the most shrewd and insightful person in the Malfoy family.
During festive seasons, she had just as many concerns as Lucius—managing the Malfoy family's social connections through gift exchanges.
After dinner that evening, she sat on the sofa, casually flipping through a thick stack of gift catalogues—filled with pictures of jewelry, porcelain, ornaments, magical instruments, and potion ingredients—and making a final check with the house-elf standing respectfully beside her. "Change Aunt Rosier's gift. Replace the lily-patterned silver cutlery with that silver rose cutlery set from Minerva's..."
The house-elf nodded obediently and tagged the catalogue with a quill.
"Mother, doesn't she already have lots of rose-themed tableware?" Draco, reading a book with one hand on the adjacent sofa, turned his head and asked casually.
"Draco, there's much to learn about gift-giving. It's not about the gift itself, but the deeper meaning behind it," Narcissa said. "For someone well-off like her who has everything and is particular, meaning matters more than the object itself. The lily set is prettier, but some might think it symbolizes death. I'd rather be conservative, even if less eye-catching, than make a mistake and offend someone."
"That makes sense." Draco asked curiously, "So what would be the most pleasing gift for these well-off relatives?"
"Draco, I didn't expect you to be interested in gift preparation," Narcissa said in surprise.
She suddenly realized her son seemed interested in more than just sweets and Chocolate Frogs. After only three or four months at Hogwarts, his focus had already begun shifting.
However, since her son wanted to know, there was nothing she couldn't tell him.
"Understanding the recipient's preferences is key to giving the right gift," Narcissa said with a smile, looking at her son's focused gaze. "Generally speaking, it's about catering to their tastes. If you know the recipient well enough, give them something they're interested in. You should be familiar with these basic rules, yes? Did you follow them when you gave gifts this year?"
"I gave Crabbe and Goyle a bunch of sweets, and I assume they were happy," Draco said.
"That's right. But if you want to make a lasting impression, simply catering to the recipient's tastes isn't enough. You need to give them something they can't afford or even acquire, something demonstrating your power, wealth, or status. Understand?" Narcissa said softly.
"Before I went home, Professor Snape gave me an early Christmas present. It was some of his Potions class notes from his student days, filled with brilliant annotations and ideas about potions... In a way, it's a symbol of his expertise, isn't it?" Draco asked.
"That's right. Severus has always been very aware of his own worth. It seems I should send him some rarer ingredients—how about some African tree snake skin?" Narcissa said in a relaxed tone.
"I think he'll probably like it very much," Draco said with a half-smile.
For most wizards, African tree snake skin was indeed rare, and even money couldn't guarantee purchase. However, for a family like the Malfoys who were involved in the potions business, it was simple enough.
She beckoned to her house-elf, who quickly scribbled on the catalogue, recording Narcissa's flash of inspiration.
She asked with interest, "Do you feel it? In the back and forth, mutual goodwill deepens. There's an art to gift-giving, and the most important thing is scarcity. Give what the recipient lacks. For the poor, give expensive gifts; for the wealthy, give heartfelt sentiment. People with great wealth don't lack material things, but sincerity. People who live in luxury don't crave delicacies—simple meals are more appealing. For those lonely and isolated, spiritual care and consideration are far more touching than cold material gifts."
"So you don't care which set of tableware you give, but only the meaning behind it, because the recipient will care?" Draco asked.
"No elderly person dislikes longevity," Narcissa said proudly. "The rose variety on that tableware set symbolizes longevity."
"You spend considerable time and energy on these social obligations every year," Draco asked. "Don't you get tired?"
"It's quite troublesome. Of course, I could just quit and ignore everyone. Nobody would dare say anything to us. In fact, even if we don't reciprocate, some will still give gifts, or even double them. But in the long run, does the Malfoy family want to live like an isolated island? Although we're at the top, none of us should forget that what supports the top is a large number of people. A single tree cannot make a forest. No matter how powerful the Malfoy family is, we don't have three heads and six arms. We need allies, we need helpers who can speak for us in various places. We also need supporters, even those whose status is far lower than ours, who can help when it matters. These relationships all need maintaining." Narcissa said casually. "There's much to learn about it. Gifts for asking favors are different from everyday gifts... Gift weight varies depending on the person's level... Returning gifts is even more troublesome... You know, a gift isn't just a gift, but also an unspoken understanding to maintain mutual benefit..."
Draco had never properly learned about these gift-giving rules in his previous life.
He'd never thought he needed to cultivate connections—wasn't bringing up the Malfoy family name convincing enough?
In reality, it was his mother who'd been managing these connections, and he'd never paid attention.
He'd never even paid attention to what gifts his mother received. In his past life, Draco seemed to always receive gifts from his mother but never gave her anything in return.
In his past life, he only knew how to take, never thought of giving. Wasn't he an overindulged son?
"Mother, what do you like?" Draco suddenly asked. "If I wanted to give you a gift, what should I get?"
"I love you most, Draco," Narcissa said with a smile. "The rules we're discussing only apply to people outside the family. For parents, they'll be happy no matter what their child gives them."
"Oh, you silly child, what can you possibly give us? We don't need anything!" Lucius, who'd been pacing back and forth, finally couldn't hold back and walked over with a stern face. "Go to bed early! That's the best Christmas present you could give us!"
Draco bowed to his father and left silently.
The best gift is not disturbing your time together? He walked through the long, candlelit corridor, sighed, and shook his head.
Unwrapping presents early Christmas morning used to be Draco's happiest moment.
Lucius gave him a pure gold cauldron to encourage his outstanding Potions performance. Narcissa gave him a beautiful sweet box that, when tapped with a wand, produced a continuous stream of Honeydukes' finest confections. And his grandfather Abraxas gave him a copy of Vindictus Viridian's Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges) and wished him good luck with his classmates—that old rascal!
Of course, there were also miscellaneous magical gifts from distant relatives, but let's not detail those.
While unwrapping gifts, Draco discovered some unexpected senders. He received a large box of sugar-free snacks from Hermione and a Chocolate Frog from Potter—with a note scrawled on it: "This is what I lost to you in a bet, please accept it."
In fact, he'd also given Potter a gift—also a Chocolate Frog—which was exactly what Potter had in mind.
The gift for Hermione was A Study of the Development of Alchemy in the Fourteenth Century—which included a brief introduction to Nicolas Flamel. May Merlin bless Hermione Granger's Christmas celebrations.
He'd also gifted Professor Snape brand-new, limited-edition high-quality dragon-hide gloves, which offered excellent protection when handling potions.
In addition, most of his Slytherin classmates would receive gifts from him—as Narcissa had taught, these gifts were often tailored to the recipient's personal preferences.
For a moment, Draco had some unrealistic fantasies. He longed to be that carefree eleven-year-old boy again, free from thought and calculation, simply happy with the dazzling array of gifts, even showing them off to his friends after the holidays.
But he could never return to that simple state of happiness. His heart was filled with worry.
So the excitement of unwrapping gifts quickly dissipated like smoke. Draco's expression returned to its usual blankness. He had no right to be happy—he had to prepare for the future.
Christmas at the Malfoy house was livelier than previous years.
Although his maternal grandfather, Cygnus Black, declined his father's invitation and insisted on spending Christmas with his distant cousin, Arcturus, his paternal grandfather, Abraxas, who'd originally planned to go to Switzerland for a health retreat, changed his mind—he preferred to enjoy some family time.
Abraxas was a living encyclopedia of Dark Magic. Draco seized an opportunity and slipped into his private study. "Grandfather, do you know of any magic that can make a soul immortal?"
"An immortal soul?" Abraxas turned and looked at his grandson with a strange expression.
This was an elderly man who commanded respect without anger, and he also possessed the Malfoy family's signature platinum blonde hair and light grey eyes, only with more wrinkles on his face.
He was sitting in a comfortable winged armchair with his feet on a velvet footstool, holding a small glass of wine in one hand and picking through a box of crystallized fruit in the other.
"What I mean is, the soul doesn't disappear with the body's death. It still has its own consciousness and can possess other people or things..." Draco said with an innocent look.
Abraxas stared at him, absentmindedly stroking his wine glass, and asked, "Hogwarts first-years already need to study such advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
Grandfather, knowing this isn't schoolwork, you still find a plausible reason to test your grandson, Draco thought helplessly.
"It's not part of the curriculum, just something I learned out of personal interest. I saw something similar in a book in the library, but I don't quite understand it," Draco said frankly.
The older generation of Malfoys weren't opposed to advanced Dark Magic—in fact, they encouraged the younger generation's interest. He didn't think Abraxas would be angry about it.
"Hmm... yes..." Abraxas said absentmindedly. "I think I know a similar spell, very evil... if I remember correctly, it might involve knowledge of Horcruxes."
"Horcruxes?" Draco stared intently at Abraxas.
"Hmm." Abraxas suddenly focused intently on observing the wine's color in his glass. "I think it wouldn't hurt to explain it to you—you need to understand this term. A Horcrux is an object that contains part of a person's soul."
"But I don't quite understand what that is," Draco said.
"This means splitting the soul," Abraxas mused, "hiding part of it in an object outside the body. Even if your body is destroyed, you won't die, because part of your soul remains unharmed in the world."
"Of course, to exist in this form—" Even Abraxas, who always revered Dark Magic, couldn't help but frown. "Few would want that. They'd rather die quickly."
Draco couldn't help but recall the inhuman and grotesque appearance of the Dark Lord from his memories.
"But how do you split a soul?" Draco asked.
The old man's eyes widened. "Of course, it's through murder! What could be more evil? Murder causes the soul to split, and the wizards who create Horcruxes use this splitting to seal the soul fragments into objects through corresponding spells."
"Can a soul fragment possess a person?" Draco continued asking.
"Of course not! The object is evil enough—possessing a human? I've never even heard of that!" Abraxas slowly turned his head, eyeing Draco suspiciously in the flickering candlelight.
"The Malfoy family has always believed Dark Magic has its allure if the method is correct. But—" Abraxas's voice sharpened. "The Malfoy family will absolutely not tolerate creating Horcruxes! The soul's rupture brings irreversible and permanent damage, resulting in unpredictable temper, lack of judgment, and gradual departure from human form..."
Abraxas snorted disdainfully. "Utterly inelegant, let alone noble. It's downright depraved. You're not planning on doing something dangerous, are you, Draco?"
He gazed at Draco's pale little face—a face that held maturity and tranquility rarely seen in children his age.
"No, Grandfather, I would never do that." Draco saw his grandfather narrow his eyes, as if assessing his words' sincerity. He tried his best to appear resolute.
Draco's expression withstood his grandfather's scrutiny. Abraxas was relieved and began selecting his favorite crystallized fruit again.
"There are only two things in life that are absolutely fair to us. The first is the twenty-four hours we each have every day, and the second is that we each will face death," Abraxas said solemnly to his beloved grandson, seemingly hoping Draco would remember this.
"With the Malfoy family's current wealth and status, we don't need to risk our souls to do something so reckless. We just need to protect our position, make friends, and continue the family line. Pursuing immortality will never end well. I'd rather die like an ordinary wizard... Look at the Dark Lord..." he muttered.
"You believe the Dark Lord is creating Horcruxes?" Draco asked tentatively, seeking confirmation once more.
"Well... of course, this is just a reasonable suspicion. For such an ambitious person, an ordinary person's life may no longer suffice. I once saw that his appearance changed drastically... he gradually became unrecognizable. Besides, killing is commonplace for him, and making one or two Horcruxes is just too easy." Abraxas said dismissively.
Draco remained silent, recalling how the Dark Lord in his past life would casually kill people at Malfoy Manor whenever displeased. His grandfather's summary was spot on.
"I noticed he was getting too obsessed with immortality and things were starting to go wrong, so I secretly made some preparations. You know, I contacted some old friends in the Ministry and such. Otherwise, how could the Malfoy family have turned against him and escaped unscathed after the Dark Lord fell? Why would the Ministry listen to us?" Abraxas said smugly.
"Aren't you afraid he'll come back?" Draco couldn't help but ask.
"Oh, if he really did something so horrific to his own soul, I think he might not be dead, but still clinging to life somewhere. But he wouldn't have much magic left, and he wouldn't be a threat anymore. Splitting one's soul comes at a price. No one can easily bear that kind of shattering cost, not even the Dark Lord. Besides, hasn't everything been peaceful all these years?" Abraxas put down his empty wine glass, expression somewhat dismissive.
Draco remained silent. In truth, the Dark Lord was about to resurrect, when everyone had grown accustomed to peaceful lives and was completely unsuspecting.
At that time, the comfortable life of the past would vanish into nothingness, and darkness would shroud the rich and beautiful land of Malfoy Manor...
"Draco, good boy, stop talking about these things and go out to play. All you need to do is live your life well and continue the glory of the Malfoy family... This history isn't glorious, it's too far removed from you, you don't need to think about it so much..." Abraxas waved to Draco, leaned comfortably against the armchair, and started snoring.